


Lucky the Cat

by LokiismyfavouriteAvenger



Category: Loki - Fandom, MCU, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Cat, F/M, Fluff, Loki got away, Loki in Hiding, Loki the Shapeshifter, Lokitty (kinda), Lucky the cat - Freeform, New York, Stray Cat, cat!Loki, cuteness, post avengers au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28592037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokiismyfavouriteAvenger/pseuds/LokiismyfavouriteAvenger
Summary: Amy finds a hungry cat on her porch, five days after the alien attack on New York. She starts to feed him and slowly, they warm up to each other. She adopts Lucky the cat, not knowing who she really brought into her home.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Loki&OFC
Comments: 63
Kudos: 158





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea for a while! Wrote this in summer but felt like it was a fic for colder days. It's a bit different from my usual stuff. I hope it's a relaxing, easy-going story!
> 
> I will be posting on Wednesdays! 
> 
> Have fun, enjoy, and please let me know what you think! Your comments mean a lot to me!
> 
> Many thanks @my betas Illy and Lynne who helped European me to "Americanize" this!

It had been five days since the sky above Manhattan opened and an alien army tried to take over the planet. Five days since the city, the country, the _world_ had been in a state of emergency. Five days since they had learned that they were, in fact, not alone. On the contrary. Five days since the museums and galleries closed, which meant five days since Amy didn’t have any work to do.

Amanda Bryce-Parker was one of the top conservators of 18th centuries oil paintings in the world. She restored oil paintings in general, but the ones from that particular period were her specialty. She owned a small house in Queens but when the aliens attacked, she’d been with a customer, analyzing a painting and about to set a price for its restoration. Later, people were running past them, yelling at them that there was an attack on the city, and they should get out and go home, leave, not come back, run as fast as they could.

At the time, nobody knew how long it would take or whether the Avengers would win. Nobody knew that Manhattan would see the most casualties and destruction, so she’d taken to the street, grateful for her comfortable sneakers. She’d run and walked all the way to her house in Queens, not sure what she would do once she was there. But when she finally arrived, she’d turned on the TV because she couldn’t think of much else to do while she started to pack a suitcase, throwing random items inside. When she calmed down again, she’d come to realize that in her fear and confusion, she’d packed a bathing suit and her bikini, but not a single pair of socks, as well as thermal underwear, but no bra.

Things were over much more quickly than expected and the aliens were defeated. New York, however, was a mess; not only Hell’s Kitchen, the corner of the city that had seen the worst destruction, but the whole place. Earth tried to come to terms with the fact that aliens existed, including some Norse gods who didn’t think too highly about the planet but somehow considered them to be a part of their… world? Kingdom? _Realm?_

Some people lost their minds. There were reports of mass suicides all over the world, as well as a bunch of crazy religious people who claimed that their respective god(s), whichever they worshipped had sent the aliens. Some people were convinced the apocalypse was near and went crazy, others who hadn’t been at the scene claimed it was all a hoax and obscure conspiracy theories sprang up like mushrooms.

China blamed India and vice versa which almost led to another world war, some Americans accused Russia, others North Korea and quite a lot pointed fingers at random countries in the Middle East that they wouldn’t be able to point out on a map if their lives depended on it. Some blamed Germany for not stopping the aliens’ leader when the chance arose and there was even talk of the country being involved with the aliens somehow. Overall, fingers were being pointed at old archenemies and tensions were rising all over the world that would take years to calm again.

Amy had received invitations to two orgies and something that she called a drug abuse party, where apparently any illegal substance imaginable was to be offered. She’d declined the invitations, wondering how she’d even qualified to be invited as she wasn’t the most sociable person. In all honesty, she just wanted to go back to work to take her mind off things.

However, that didn’t happen. The galleries stayed closed.

Still, she tried to keep her days as normal as possible. Many who had the opportunity left the city, at least for a few days. Amy stayed. It wouldn’t do to run, plus there was no immediate danger. And who knew if there even was anything like a safe place at all.

On day five after the attack, she had been grocery shopping and was about to unlock her front door, when she spotted a black cat with beautiful green eyes sitting on her lawn. The cat eyed her. It looked a bit battered, probably a pet cat that had been lost in the chaos?

Amy crouched and tried to lure the cat to her, intending to look for a collar. The cat tilted its head to the side and blinked, not making a move to get up. Amy shrugged.

She went inside to put away her groceries, but when she looked out the window, the cat was still there. Maybe it was hungry? She’d gotten chicken breast to cook for dinner, maybe she could feed the cat some of that?

Preparing the food, Amy kept looking out the window to see if the cat was still there. It didn’t move away, but just sat there, looking at her house. She was glad she wasn’t superstitious.

Once she’d cut off a few pieces of the chicken breast, she went back out with a plate in hand and placed it some distance of the cat. She didn’t want to scare the kitty, so she took a few steps back and watched, making a mental note to make sure to take the leftovers to the trash so she wouldn’t attract any other strays or racoons.

The cat looked her over intensely. For a while, it didn’t move, only its tail seemingly having a life of its own, twisting and twitching from side to side. Then, very slowly, the cat got up, not taking its eyes off Amy. To encourage it, she stepped back further. Once the cat reached the plate, a shiver went through the animal. It ate so quickly that not even half a minute later, the plate was empty. It must have been starving.

As soon as it was done, it retreated to the spot it had occupied before, eying her all the time. Amy hadn’t been able to spot a collar, so maybe it was a stray and didn’t belong to anybody. However, its fur looked well-groomed, at least from a distance.

“You can sleep on the porch, if you want to,” she told the cat, feeling stupid the moment she’d said the words.

Yeah, first step towards crazy cat lady status.

The cat remained seated, maintaining eye contact. Amy shrugged, took the plate and went back inside to finish her own dinner.

That evening, after a twenty-minute phone call to her mother, who tried to convince her to leave for Pennsylvania asap, which she wouldn’t do, she settled down to watch some reruns of a 90s TV-shows. She found that the familiar plots helped her calm down in the evenings, even more so after the attack on the city.

Amy hadn’t seen much, apart from clouds of smoke and the portal in the sky that had been visible from many miles away. She’d seen tiny dots that must have been the aliens flying above Manhattan and then some not so tiny dots that must have been those weird alien ships and later, of course, smoke and dust from crumbling buildings.

She’d been at an antiques salesman’s shop in Queens that she was friends with at the time, looking at two oil paintings he’d bought at a garage sale. The back of one of the paintings was covered in a thin sheen of mold and was beyond saving. The other one could be restored to its former glory and they’d been discussing the price when they’d heard a loud boom and ran to the street.

They hadn’t been able to see a thing from their position, so they'd walked towards the crossing where people had gathered and were all staring in the direction of Manhattan.

It still felt surreal. Amy had been surprisingly calm and ran all the way home at a comfortable jogging pace. She’d tried to call her parents to tell them she was fine, but there had been no signal. She’d had a moment of panic where she packed her suitcase, but then, the rest of the day was spent in front of the TV, watching the news, unable to believe what she was seeing. When she couldn’t cope anymore, she dug out her King of Queens DVD box set and watched until she fell asleep on the sofa, ignoring the world outside.

As Amy decided to go to bed the evening after she’d fed the cat, she looked out the window again, just to spot it on her porch. She smiled to herself. Somehow, it felt good to know the dear animal felt safe around her place.

The next morning, it was still there. She took a small bowl, filled it with fresh water, and placed it on her porch, watching the cat cautiously sneak closer. It quickly lapped up the water and retreated again, careful not to let Amy out of its sight. Maybe it had been abused and was scared of humans? She didn’t know.

Amy called some galleries and collectors that had employed her to ask what the plan was for any further business. She was anxious to get back to work, because she needed human interaction, as she was clearly descending into crazy catladyness with her newest fixation.

Half of the people she called didn’t answer their phones. Some of the others told her that they had other things to do than have a painting restored at the moment. Finally, one collector asked her to come over to have a look at something.

Amy was glad to get out of the house for a bit. Most subway lines ran as usual, so getting to the fancy apartment in Manhattan where the art collector lived wasn’t too difficult. On her way there, she saw some of the destruction firsthand - a building that had crashed, sinkholes in the middle of a street, burst windows, and the smell of ash and melted concrete. It was difficult to take in, as her place wasn’t that far away, but her neighborhood had remained untouched by chaos and destruction.

The art collector’s place was unaffected, as well. The windows in the room they met in overlooked a side street where only one building was a bit destroyed. There were already people working to rebuild it.

She’d grabbed some Chinese take out on her way home – and was greeted by the cat, sitting on her porch, looking at her expectantly. Amy tried to pet it, but it hissed at her and retreated a few steps.

“All right calm down! I won’t touch you if you don’t wanna!” she mumbled, walking past and getting inside.

However, she looked outside again, and the cat was still there. She felt a twinge of guilt. Did the cat expect to be fed again? Should she have done that the day before? Would it think it would get food at her place regularly?

She debated with herself a bit, then decided to give it a go and went shopping again, this time getting three different kinds of cat food, as she had no experience with cats whatsoever, and – on a whim – some more chicken breast. When she came back, the cat was still there, as if waiting for her.

She filled a bowl with cat food and placed it on the porch. She’d been right. As soon as she stepped back, the cat tiptoed closer, sniffed at the plate – and looked up at her as if offended.

“What?” she asked.

The cat kept looking up at her and mewed.

“You don’t like this?” she asked, and the cat mewed again.

Amy sighed.

“I can’t believe this,” she mumbled, and grabbed the plate.

The cat retreated a few steps as soon as Amy came nearer. Amy went back inside to try another kind of cat food.

“This has fish in it. Do you like fish? I heard cats like fish,” Amy babbled, placing the plate back down, taking two steps back, and watching the cat.

It looked at her for a moment longer, then elegantly stepped towards the plate, sniffed at it tentatively – and looked up at her, hissing.

“Are you serious? No fish? Or don’t you like the brand? Is that a thing with cats? I think it’s a thing with cats,” she mumbled, grabbing the plate and walking back to the kitchen to try the last kind of food she had for the cat.

It had the same result. The cat hissed, then mewed, then proceeded to look up at her expectantly.

“You cannot be serious! I don’t have any other cat food! I just have… oh! You want chicken again, don’t you? You’re a spoiled little thing! How did you survive out there when you’re not eating cat food? Do you hunt? Only fresh meat for you?” Amy asked a little annoyed by the cat’s ungratefulness.

They went into a bit of a stare-down, but eventually, Amy threw her head back and groaned, stomping back to the kitchen. She pulled the chicken breast from the fridge and cut off a few pieces. She placed them on a clean plate and returned to face her picky guest.

“Right. Now let’s see what you make of that,” she mumbled.

As soon as the cat reached the plate, it looked up at her, giving her a look that said as much as “finally!” and dug in.

“I don’t believe this,” Amy mumbled, shaking her head, waiting until the cat was done and retreated so she could take the plate.

However, when she was putting the dishes into the dishwasher, she stopped, thinking.

She smiled to herself. Apparently, she more or less had a cat now.

This went on for eleven days as life in New York slowly returned to normal – or whatever the New York equivalent of normal was. Amy would go to work as some of her customers would call and ask for her help, do shopping and other chores, sometimes go for a run, and when she came home in the evening, the cat would be waiting for her.

On day twelve, though, something was different. Rain was pouring down and the cat was nowhere to be seen. Amy didn’t know where to place the cat’s bowl as everything inside it would be soaked in seconds, but as she couldn’t see the cat anywhere, she wouldn’t have to serve it food anyway.

It felt weird. Wrong. She’d gotten so used to the black ball of fur with its shiny green eyes that watched her so intently. Sighing, she went to shower and just as she let herself fall onto the sofa rather gracelessly, she heard a noise from outside.

A mew. It came from the front door.

Quickly, she got back up and pulled it open. And there, on the porch sat a dripping wet black cat, looking annoyed and shooting her a glance that told her it was all her fault. Without any further ado, the cat marched past her into the house.

“Hey! Uhm… wait! You can’t just…,” Amy tried, feeling silly reasoning with a cat.

A tomcat, to be precise, as he was holding his tail high in the air to show off his impressive balls to the world. He hadn’t turned his back to her before, always retreating in a weirdly elegant backwards walk.

“Right,” she mumbled, closing the door.

She followed the cat to the living room where he laid in front of the heater as if he belonged there.

“Right,” Amy mumbled again, straightened her shoulders, and went to the kitchen to fetch food for the cat.

She put the bowl on the ground in the kitchen as there was no way she’d let the cat eat in the living room. Just as she was wondering how to lure him to the food, he swaggered elegantly towards the bowl, ignoring her completely.

Amy took the opportunity to inspect him up closer. His shiny fur was almost dry already and he didn’t look as malnourished and battered as he had the first time she’d seen him. On the contrary, he looked like a well-kept, groomed housecat. She couldn’t see any traces of fleas or other vermin on him either.

When he was done eating, he marched back to the living room to plop down in front of the heater again. Amy still felt a bit overwhelmed but joined him soon, sitting on the couch, watching him.

“As you’ve apparently decided to live here now, I should probably give you a name, shouldn’t I?” she mused.

The cat ignored her, licking his right front paw.

“You’ve been pretty lucky that you didn’t turn up at Mrs. Baker’s down the road. She’d probably have called the police on you,” Amy went on, thinking about the annoying woman who called the cops on a weekly basis for the most trifling of things.

“So, what if I called you Lucky? Would that be to your liking, your highness?” she asked, mocking the cat that somehow managed to look perfectly regal.

At her words, he looked up, seemingly startled. He stared her right in the eye and Amy had the strange feeling that he knew exactly what she’d just said.

“I… I mean, it doesn’t have to be Lucky. I could… call you Tom, like Tom and Jerry? Because… Tomcat? Or… something else?” she asked.

The cat’s tail swished through the air.

“Lucky? Is that okay?” Amy asked insecurely, while wondering why she was having this one-sided conversation in the first place, and why it was making her so nervous.

The cat laid back down and stretched. It seemed he approved of her choice of name for him. Amy exhaled, only then realizing that she’d been holding her breath.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucky and Amy are getting used to living together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again! 
> 
> Enjoy! And please let me know what you think!

Over the following days, Amy bought cat toys, a litter box, and a scratching post, as well as some more varieties of cat food and canned fish. She thought about getting cat nip as she’d always wanted to see the effects of the herb in person but decided against it.

Lucky kept his distance. He didn’t seem to have any urges to leave the house, though. Amy didn’t know what to make of that, but in the end, she didn’t care. She was even feeling a tiny bit relieved, as she’d been scared to find him gone one day.

She posted an add on Facebook about a found cat, as well as hanging a few signs in the neighborhood concerning Lucky, but nobody called the number she’d given.

Lucky was mostly asleep when she was at home. She suspected that he was much more active when she wasn’t there, but he usually limited his activities to grooming and feeding when she was watching him. He wasn’t the playful type.

He never ate cat food, either. The spoiled little thing always looked at her accusingly, as if she meant to poison him when she offered him any of that. He only ate fresh meat or fish, though he took canned fish as well, a fact that Amy was grateful for. She didn’t like the smell and only ate fish when she was going out, and she didn’t like having fresh fish in her kitchen, apart from the occasional salmon or take out sushi.

She had quickly gotten used to Lucky, and after a month, he was a permanent fixture of her home. She looked forward to seeing him in the evenings, even though he didn’t seem to pay any particular attention to her at all, except as a source for food. Still, she kept telling him about her day as she was preparing the food or when she sat down to rest.

During the summer, Amy’s life was pretty much normal. Museums had reopened and she was in high demand by some private collectors who were unfortunate enough to have their art displayed in one of the more damaged areas of Manhattan. Amy worked long hours during the hot summer days, glad to be able to stay indoors, as she wasn’t too keen on the heat. When she came home, Lucky was there, waiting for her. He had taken to lying on the tiles of the kitchen as those were cooler than the floorboards or her rugs, despite her leaving the AC on a low setting all day. Her home wouldn’t have been inhabitable otherwise.

This was something she found odd, as she knew cats normally chased the sunny spots on the floor, whereas Lucky would do anything to avoid them. He liked the cold tiles and would often sit close to the AC to make sure he felt the colder air. Because of his avoiding the sun, Amy called him her little vampire for a while.

Occasionally, one of her few friends would come over or they would meet up in a coffee shop, although outside of business, Amy kept mostly to herself. She had a few select friends, and of course her family back in Pittsburgh, consisting of her parents and her older sister who was married and had an obnoxious, spoiled son named Tyler.

Her family had tried to get her to come stay with them when the attack on New York happened, but Amy had declined. She went to visit them for a few weekends, always leaving enough dry cat food out for Lucky, as she didn’t want anyone coming to her home when she wasn’t there.

The cat was always highly offended by her prolonged absence - and the need to eat dry cat food - ignoring her even more than usual when she returned.

In August, Amy had a date. It was the first one in more than a year, so she was rather excited. The guy, Terry, was an acquaintance she’d met through one of the art collectors. He was a tax consultant and they had met because Amy’s expertise had been needed to see how much restoration of a particular painting would be. The collector had said something along the line of being able to get funding if the painting was damaged badly, and Amy had to see if that was the case.

She had exchanged numbers with Terry for professional reasons, should further questions arise, but one day he’d texted her from out of the blue, and it had gone back and forth from there on.

As she got ready for the date that evening, Lucky appeared in the doorway of her bedroom. He usually didn’t come upstairs, at all, even though he wasn’t forbidden there. He wouldn’t have cared about a ban anyway.

Amy had just managed to zip up her dress when she saw movement from the corner of her eye. She turned around and there was Lucky, rubbing his side against the doorframe like he was scratching himself there, purring.

“Hello Lucky! What are you doing up here, huh?” Amy asked, taking a careful step towards the cat.

He didn’t move away, just kept looking at her intently. Slowly, very slowly, Amy got into a crouch, still two feet away from the cat. She extended a hand for him to sniff her fingers and to her utter amazement, Lucky did just that. And then, he took a step forward and started to rub the top of his head along the back of her hand.

Amy was much happier than was reasonable. Finally, _finally_ , after more than three months, the cat let her touch him! Careful not to scare him off, she moved her hand and stroked between his ears, then tickled him under the chin. His purring got louder and louder.

“Ooh, you are such a lovely, lovely, boy, right? Such a shy, sweet boy,” Amy cooed.

In reply, Lucky mewed. Then, he retreated downstairs again, leaving her behind, wondering where the sudden change in his mood had come from. Before she left, Amy checked on Lucky, but he was curled up on his favorite cushion, apparently asleep.

The date didn’t go too well. Terry turned out to be a show-off and clearly just wanted to get in her panties. Amy wasn’t keen on one-night stands or an affair, and she told him as much. Of course, Terry then denied being after that kind of thing either and pretended to be hurt by her assumptions. Amy left as quickly as possible, taking a cab back home.

She was feeling rather depressed when she returned home. She kicked off her shoes and pulled the hairband out of her hair, then proceeded to remove the jewelry she’d put on for that jerk. She went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, furiously wiping away the tears that had crept into the corners of her eyes.

How silly was that? It had just been a bad date, not a breakup or anything similarly devastating! And yet, she had held high hopes for it. Despite liking to be on her own, Amy had realized that she was feeling a bit lonely. The awareness had come a few weeks after the attack on New York. Amy had been sitting on her sofa and suddenly it had hit her.

There had been an alien attack. She could have died. They could all have died. And here she was, sitting in her home, alone, aside from a cat who ignored her. That had been the day she decided to go visit her parents the following weekend.

It had also been the day she decided she should start dating again. For lack of possible candidates, it had taken her till August to find someone who piqued her interest, even a little bit interested. And now this. She hurried upstairs to get out of the dress and left it lying on the floor, accompanied by the uncomfortable bra she’d worn. Instead, she changed into her pajamas and then took her make-up off.

She wasn’t tired yet – only emotionally – and so she went back downstairs to watch some more “King of Queens”. The show had a soothing effect on her, likely because she’d watched it all at least four times before. She settled on the couch with a bowl of unhealthy snacks and a glass of red wine. They’d been out for dinner, but she’d soon lost her appetite because of Terry’s behavior. He’d been so annoying: sleazy comments, dirty jokes, and a few times stroking her thighs. He had even grabber her ass when she walked past to get to the washroom, though she’d made it clear that she didn’t want that. Then, he’d denied ever trying anything, had acted so offended, even going so far as to call her a slut.

_Men…_

As the episode started, Lucky joined her on the couch. Usually, he’d stay in the armchair when she was there, but now, he was eying her from the other side of the sofa. Amy eyed him back, ignoring Arthur’s hilarity on the screen.

Lucky edged closer to her, closer and closer until he made himself at home in her lap. Amy held her breath. She was so excited! The shy cat that wouldn’t even let her touch him up until this afternoon was now lying comfortably in her lap, rubbing his head against her stomach, his eyes closed in bliss. She didn’t dare to move for a moment before she slowly reached for the snack bowl.

Lucky didn’t stir. He clearly wasn’t asleep, as he was watching her hands attentively, but he seemed relaxed and at ease. Amy carefully placed the bowl next to her so she could reach it, and then slowly moved her hand closer and closer to Lucky. He followed it with his eyes but didn’t get ready to jump or scratch. Come to think of it, he’d never scratched her, at all.

As soon as she touched his head, the cat started to purr. Amy continued caressing him, stroking under his chin. His purring became even louder. She went on to petting his back and he fully relaxed into her. She realized that the first episode she’d meant to watch was over already and she hadn’t registered a single thing, too distracted by the cat in her lap.

She smiled. Terry was already forgotten.

“You know what? You’re the much more important man in my life, Lucky!” she stated, acknowledging that she was taking another step to crazy cat lady land.

She didn’t care. His fur was so soft and shiny and so _smooth_ she couldn’t get enough of the feeling. Sipping her wine, eating snacks while petting a beautiful cat was much better than listening to Terry's drivel.

Two episodes that she barely watched later, Amy yawned. As if on cue, Lucky rose and jumped from the couch, stretching elegantly on the floor. Amy chuckled, switched off the TV, and took the bowl and her glass to the kitchen. When she came back, she couldn’t see Lucky anywhere. However, when she entered her bedroom, he sat at the foot of the bed, his tail swishing from side to side.

Amy had never thought about having him sleep in her bed, but she didn’t mind. He was a very clean cat, always used the litterbox and she hadn’t even found a hairball anywhere. As she didn’t have any experience with cats, she hadn’t wondered about, at all.

She grinned at him.

“You’re the only male who’s getting in my bed tonight,” she said, winking at the cat.

If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he understood. There was a twinkle in his eyes that looked so… intelligent and understanding. Even smug. Amy shook her head and made herself comfortable at last.

That night, she slept better than she had in a long time.

\--

Lucky started to sleep in her bed regularly. He would also join her on the couch as soon as she settled down, be it to read a book, a magazine, or watch something on TV. He would come to lie in her lap, purring and demanding chin scratches and back stroking, and Amy would happily oblige.

As the weather became a bit colder and the leaves of the trees started to change color, he even started sleeping not at the foot end of the bed but next to Amy.

She had started to wonder about her cat’s un-cat-like behavior. Lucky wouldn’t get up at night and go crazy. He didn’t have his five minutes where he would run around like mad. He also didn’t stare at nothing – or random places on the wall.

And he was a spoiled eater. After the first few weeks, he started to get even more picky. He loved fish and especially salmon, preferably fresh, when Amy cooked it for herself. He would not touch dry food. At all. Amy tried being strict and not giving him anything else for two days, but then he was enacting the Dying Swan and kept complaining and whining and she gave in rather quickly. The look he gave her after that was nothing short of triumphant.

\--

At the beginning of October, Amy had another date. With Terry.

He had continued to bug her, apologizing again and again until one day, she caved. They were going out for dinner. Again.

Amy had started telling Lucky about her day when she came home shortly after he moved in with her. She found it relaxing. It was a bit like a diary you never looked at again. She talked to the cat, who was polite enough to sit there and pretend to listen, and she was able to talk about what bothered her and what was on her mind to get it off her chest.

When she told Lucky about her second date with Terry, the cat’s reaction was uncanny. He arched his back and hissed upon hearing the name. Then, he disappeared from the living room, not coming back when she called for him. Amy found him on the bed, hissing at her when she tried to lure him downstairs.

That evening, she sat in front of the TV alone, missing Lucky dearly. She couldn’t understand what had happened, surely his reaction couldn’t have been caused by her mentioning Terry?! The cat wasn’t _jealous_ , was he?

She laughed at herself, humanizing animals. After all, he was her _cat_ , not her _boyfriend_. She wasn’t betraying anyone by going out with Terry again. Except, maybe, herself.

The date went well enough. This time, Terry even brought her home, despite her protests. As Amy wanted to say goodbye to him on the porch, Terry more or less invited himself inside for a drink.

That was when things became weird.

“I’m not serving you alcohol. You still have to drive,” she stated, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Oh, I could… you know. Crash here. What do you say?” he asked, coming closer to her. She took a few steps back until her back hit the wall and she had nowhere left to go.

“Terry, stop it!” she demanded, but he didn’t seem to care.

Amy was already preparing to fight, her heart hammering in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins when a hiss next to them caught their attention. Lucky was there, focused on Terry, back arched, hissing furiously. Amy blinked at Lucky as he crept forward, eyes burning with green fire. He appeared larger, more menacing. She shook her head. Maybe she had had too much to drink.

“Oh, look at that, the kitty wants to protect its mistress,” Terry said mockingly.

“I would leave if I were you,” Amy said.

“Amy… dear Amy… I only want to get to know you a bit better…” Terry trailed off, lifting a hand to her face to caress her cheek.

Amy turned to the side.

“Leave me alone. Now!” she commanded firmly, but Terry had her caged.

She stamped on his foot. He just laughed. Then, his face changed and a howl of pain sounded through the house. He took a step back, then another, twisting and swatting at his back. It took Amy a moment to understand what was happening.

Lucky had jumped onto Terry’s back and was clinging to him, his claws digging deep into the man’s back. There was blood on Terry’s shirt. Lucky let go and got in front of Amy who stared at the scene, wide eyed.

“Your fucking cat hurt me!” Terry complained, face twisted with pain and rage.

“You didn’t fucking leave me alone, so he protected me! Now get out of my house before I call the cops!” Amy yelled at him.

For a moment, he looked like he would try to get to her again, but then, there was another angry hiss from Lucky. Terry’s shoulders sagged and the man in front of her looked like a completely different person.

“I… I’m leaving. Just keep that hellcat away from me! You’re nuts, you know? I bet you wouldn’t have been a good lay anyways.” With that, he practically ran from the house, slamming the door behind him.

The tension left Amy and she slowly sank down onto the floor in the spot where she had been standing. She realized she was crying, though she didn’t know why, really. Maybe it was the shock of Terry’s behavior. Then, something soft nudged her arm.

Lucky was next to her, looking his normal size, nudging her with his forehead. She picked him up and pressed her face into his fur.

“You’re my savior, Lucky. Do you know that? I don’t know what that fucker would have done had you not been here. Thank you. Thank you so much!” she babbled, rubbing her cheek against the soft, warm fur of the cat.

Lucky mewed and pushed himself as close to her as possible. They stayed like that for a while. Amy finally managed to get back up. She gulped down two glasses of water and then hurried to get to bed, though she doubted she’d be able to sleep. When she took off the dress she’d been wearing, she just left it in a pile on the floor. As soon as she was in bed, Lucky appeared at her side, snuggling as close as possible to her.

She glanced at the nightstand to see her phone blinking. Opening it, she found a message. From Terry.

_You better leave me alone, crazy bitch! I never want to hear from you again._

‘Likewise,’ she thought.

She grabbed the book she was currently reading and tried to lose herself in the story. It didn’t work. She switched off the lights, glad that she had left the curtains open. A little bit of a yellowish stream of streetlight shone through and fell to the other side of the room. She turned to the side, pulled Lucky closer, stroked the fur on his back, and then she started to speak.

She told him pretty much everything about herself. Where she came from, who her family was, about her stupid aunt who made such a big deal of them being descendants from the first Mayflower settlers, about her spoiled nephew, about her parents and about several cherished childhood memories. She told him about her youth and her time at college and university, about her love for art and paintings, about the moment she’d made the decision to do restoration work for a living. About her first job, about the move to New York.

She told him about the crazy rich art collectors and stuck up artists, about people she met and her friends. She told him about her first love and how that had gone down the drain, about the men she’d dated and how none of them had ever fully understood her love for art. About Curtis, who had asked her to give up work to become his doting wife and mother of at least three children. About Gregory who had betrayed her with a professional lacrosse player. About Michael who had come out gay to her during a tearful conversation in the middle of a night in June two years ago and with whom she still was in contact occasionally.

She told him about her struggle to trust people, about the few one night stands she’d had and how none of them had been any good. She told him about the day she decided to buy the house, and she told him where she had been when the Battle of New York happened and why she had stayed in the city afterwards. And she told him what a gain it was to have him in her life and that she couldn’t imagine being without him.

The first rays of pale morning light were already falling through the window when Amy finally fell asleep. She managed to sleep until noon, and when she woke up, she felt weirdly relaxed and not bothered by the events of the night before. Lucky was there with her, purring as she scratched his head.

She would be okay.

Amy got up and out of her pajamas, walking to the bathroom completely naked, looking forward to a hot shower.

In her bedroom, Lucky the cat buried his nose in her pillow and then rolled around where she had been lying, enjoying the residual warmth of her body and covering himself in her scent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unexpected things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy CatLoki Wednesday, everyone! I'm really curious what you guys think of this one!

The weather became colder and Amy would often curl up on the couch with Lucky in her lap, a book in her hand, and a steaming cup of hot tea or hot chocolate at her side. She enjoyed those times immensely and the purring of the cat had a calming effect on her. She couldn’t imagine life without him anymore.

When Thanksgiving was just around the corner, she was faced with a problem she hadn’t thought about. Amy had been invited to celebrate with her family, as always. However, she didn’t know what to do with Lucky during the week she would be gone. After a call to her mother, she decided to take him with her.

Amy bought a leash and a lovely little collar for Lucky, a green leather thing that matched his eyes, and a spacious pet carrier. Only then did she realize that she’d never taken him anywhere by car. Not even a vet.

She looked up things on the internet and came to the conclusion that she had to take him to a vet asap. However, when she’d made the appointment and the time for them to leave was near, he disappeared. Amy couldn’t find him, anywhere, and finally had to give up, call the vet and cancel the appointment.

She’d have to reschedule once they were back from her visit.

Amy managed to get Lucky used to the carrier and took him for a ride in the car through the neighborhood. He was impressively unimpressed and seemed to know that they weren’t heading to the vet. She had no idea how he did it.

The travel to her family’s house went very well. Lucky didn’t complain about being stuck in the carrier and he behaved very well.

Once at her parents’, he had to stay in Amy’s room, because her dad didn’t like cats. At first, it was a bit difficult, but then, Amy got her parents to compromise and she could take him downstairs on the leash as long as he didn’t destroy any furniture.

He was surprisingly well-behaved, though he wouldn’t eat anything served by anyone but her. Soon, her family liked him too and they understood why she’d had to bring him along.

Nevertheless, it felt good to be at home in New York again when they returned. Amy wasn’t sure if she’d ever heard Lucky purr as loudly as when they got back and spent the first evening on their couch again, with a mug of hot chocolate on the side table and a book in hand, wrapped in a blanket and Lucky in her lap. He was such a cuddler!

Amy had a love-hate relationship with Christmas time in the city. She loved the lights and the festive atmosphere, but at the same time, the thousands of stressed-out people and the recurring Christmas songs got on her nerves. She was one of those people who bought her presents on time, often long before Christmas, so she’d not have to go out and join the crowds but could look at the busy people from a safe distance.

She’d make the trip to her parents again, bringing Lucky as well, of course.

The holidays came and went. Amy stayed with her family until the New Year because she usually avoided New York for New Year’s Eve.

Lucky got dinners of chicken breast and salmon as Christmas presents and spent the night stretched out next to Amy in bed.

When they were back at home, their routine took up again.

Things went downhill at the end of February.

It all began when Amy got sick. It started one evening when she was sitting in front of the TV. All of a sudden, she felt extremely tired and her limbs were hurting. There was also a bad headache and she barely managed to reach the bathroom in time to throw up. She was shivering and sweating. A visit to the doctor confirmed her suspicion: she had caught the flu.

Amy rescheduled all work she had planned for the following week. She was feeling like a truck had run her over, repeatedly, and was mostly sleeping. She barely ate anything at all as she wasn’t feeling hungry and mostly felt nauseous after eating.

Lucky seemed to worry about her too. He never left her side, even refusing to let himself be locked out of the bathroom when she needed to use it. More than once, she would wake up just to see the cat sitting at the end of her bed, watching her.

On day five of her illness, she had the strangest fever dream ever.

Amy thought she’d woken up, but that couldn’t be. She wasn’t alone. There was a man sitting on the edge of her bed, softly stroking back the sweaty hair that was clinging to her forehead.

He was beautiful. His black hair hung past his shoulders in soft waves and his eyes were blazing green in his pale face. High cheekbones sat above thin lips that framed a generous mouth. And his voice! He was mumbling – or chanting? – something that she didn’t understand in a foreign language. His tone of voice was soothing and calming and there was a wonderful feeling of safety and trust towards him. She only got a glimpse of him before a deep sense of calm and relaxation took her in and everything faded to black.

The next morning, she woke up, feeling completely healthy and normal again. She sat up in bed, spotting Lucky slumbering next to her.

The pain in her limbs was gone, as was the constant throbbing headache and the feeling of nausea and tiredness and exhaustion. She immediately took her temperature, and it was back to normal. Amy slowly got up, still feeling a bit weak due to not eating much during the last few days, but otherwise, she was perfectly fine.

She went downstairs and made coffee and had breakfast. She’d half expected to find herself kneeling in front of the toilet and praying to the porcelain gods after eating but her food stayed where it was supposed to be. She fed Lucky and decided to take a relaxing bath to wash off the sweat and illness of the last days.

Amy had just reclined into her bathtub and closed her eyes with a sigh when the doorbell rang. Grumbling, she chose to ignore it. However, it rang again and there was knocking and shouting. Who the hell was so adamant about coming in?!

She got out of the bathtub, put on her robe and slippers and made her way down the stairs. The front door was already visible when it suddenly gave way. Amy shrieked.

There was an armed commando troop filling into her living room. Then, a familiar figure appeared.

“Captain America?” she asked loudly, wondering if she was in fact still lying in her bed, having the craziest fever dream anyone could ever come up with.

It got even weirder. Iron Man and Thor stepped through her broken door as well. Amy stood to the side, mouth hanging open, hugging her robe close to her chest, painfully aware that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“Where is he?” Thor’s voice boomed through the small house.

And just like that, as if a switch had been turned, Amy was angry.

She stepped in front of the lot.

“Excuse me? Hi? Hi! You’re in my house and I’d like to know what you’re doing here,” she said firmly despite being rather nervous.

“I am looking for my brother,” Thor replied without even looking at her.

“Well, that’s too bad, I’m living here on my own, so this must be some kind of mistake. Please leave my house now,” she said, even managing a shooing motion with her arms.

This was so absurd! She was trying to get the Avengers out of her living room while only wrapped in her pink bathrobe! It must have been a fever dream. This couldn’t be real.

“Ma’am, please, stay calm. Hi, I’m Steve Rogers, you might know me as Captain America and we’re…” the man in the ridiculously tight blue suit tried to talk to her, but Amy interrupted him.

“Don’t you ma’am me! I know who you are, and I want you to leave! Now! This is my house, there is no one else but me here, so please, leave!” she said angrily.

“I found him!” Thor’s voice boomed triumphantly from the upper floor.

“That’s my bedroom! What is Thor doing in my bedroom?” Amy shrieked, now more and more panicky.

The Prince of Asgard reappeared, holding a hissing Lucky by the back of his neck.

“You let go of my cat, now! I swear to God, if you hurt him, I’ll… I’ll… I’ll call in the media and _everyone_ will know, and your reputation is gonna be ruined and you’ll never set a foot on this planet again,” she yelled, absolutely terrified by now.

It took her a moment to realize that she was actually being held back by the Captain, whose body felt like a brick wall against her back and who had an arm wrapped around her waist that felt like one of those safety bars on rollercoasters that either are too lose or too tight. She was struggling, not caring that the front of her robe was opening more and more.

“Please, ma’… please, calm down and come with us, this is…” the Captain tried, but Amy was scratching and kicking at him, screaming profanities and insults while she watched Iron Man walk over to Thor. He had his visor pulled back and was holding a collar in his hand.

“What the fuck are you doing? Get away from my cat. Let him go! LET HIM GO,” Amy yelled, fighting even more and only hurting herself when she tried to headbutt Captain America.

Iron Man put the collar on the struggling and scratching Lucky. Thor finally let go of him – and then something absolutely mental happened.

Lucky sat on the floor, but there was a kind of green glow to him and suddenly, there was no cat anymore, but a man wearing strange clothing, sitting in her living room where a moment ago, her cat had been. Amy recognized him. It was the man from her fever dream, the one who had soothed her.

She stopped fighting.

“Who… what… how… what…,” she stammered, the ability to form proper sentences lost for now.

The man looked at her and she stared back. He had the same green eyes as Lucky.

“I am sorry,” he said before he was shackled by Thor and led from the house.

The Captain finally let go of her too. Amy staggered to the sofa and sat down. Iron Man made a gesture to someone who was standing behind her and seconds later, the Captain was kneeling in front of her.

“I think you should come with us for now. We will explain everything at the compound. All your questions will be answered. Please, come with us,” he said.

Amy looked at him, wide eyed.

“Do I even have a choice?” she asked weakly.

He made a face and shook his head.

“No, not really, I’m afraid. I’m sorry.”

Amy nodded, huffed, and got up.

“Well then. Let’s go,” she stepped outside, only then realizing that she was only wearing a robe and her hair was wet and it was February and fucking cold.

She turned to the Captain who was standing on the porch next to her.

“You guys have to fix my door! If I come back here and my house has been looted, I swear I’ll end you all,” she said tiredly, a part of her screaming at her that she should probably stop threatening the Avengers.

The Captain signed to two of the soldier guys that had come into her home and then he said something to someone she couldn’t see, likely through an earpiece communicator thingy. As he maneuvered her into a waiting car, he seemed to listen to someone, nodded and then addressed her.

“Tony is on it. The door will be installed today.”

“Good,” Amy replied, looking out of the window, dazed.

“And someone should let out my bathwater. You guys owe me one of those really expensive bath bombs from Macy’s. I kept that for a special occasion and now… you ruined my bath,” she said.

That was the moment the absurdity of the situation caught up with her. There had been an Avengers home invasion. Her cat had turned into a man. She was sitting in a car with Captain America, almost naked, with wet hair and wearing slippers.

Amy started to laugh, so much that she struggled to breath. The man next to her looked at her, clearly worried. Then, her laughter turned to crying.

What the hell had happened? Her life had been good and now the Avengers had destroyed her front door and abducted her cat-turned-man!

At some point during the drive, she calmed down again and stared out of the window. The Captain tried to make conversation, but she didn’t listen, and he shut up quickly, after offering her a blanket which she declined.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy has to cope with her cat not being a cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back with another update! Some things will be explained. How will Amy cope? 
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting!!

An hour later, she found herself in a comfortable chair, wearing a surprisingly comfortable onesie that looked like fighting gear. The Captain was in the room with her, as was a guy who had introduced himself as Bruce Banner.

Great. The Hulk in non-hulk form was there. Later, she would find out that the Black Widow had been watching her through the one-way mirror that was mounted on the wall to find out if she had been lying and had hidden Loki knowing fully well what she was doing.

Banner explained to her that Loki, the same Loki who had apparently led an alien army to invade the earth, had shapeshifted into a cat to escape his captors when he was caught by the Avengers after they defeated him. Said cat had somehow turned up on her doorstep, she’d fed him, one thing led to another, and then they had been living together for almost a year.

At first, Amy refused to believe it.

“Lucky never scratched me! He was perfectly well behaved! My cat can’t be a war criminal!” she said, knowing how insane it sounded.

The non-Hulk was shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

“But he was. We… we couldn’t find him. There is… there is a watcher in Asgard, Heimdall, who keeps an eye on… the worlds and… even _he_ couldn’t find him. However, last year in October there was an energy burst in your neighborhood, something we managed to identify as magic. Heimdall was watching the area closely and last night, he finally saw Loki,” Banner went on.

“Last night? Then… it wasn’t a dream? He really sat at my bed? That was him? … Wait a minute, you’ve got an interstellar alien pervert watching everything we do in my neighborhood?” Amy asked.

Banner ignored that last part, but nodded at the first bit, as did the Captain next to him. Amy more and more disliked the sleek man, without having a clue why.

“As far as we know, Loki healed you. You were sick, right?” Banner asked.

Amy nodded.

“Yes, I had a nasty flu. It knocked me out for five days, it was really bad, but then this morning, I woke up feeling perfectly fine, I…” she drifted off.

Could that be? That some alien wizard had healed her flu?

As if he could read her thoughts, Banner continued.

“If you’ll agree, we could do some quick blood tests to see if everything is back to normal with you,” he offered.

Amy would have none of that.

“Who’s to say you won’t use my blood for any… weird experiments? I mean yes, you guys are the Avengers, but you came bursting into my house while I was taking a bath, destroyed my front door, and kidnapped my… cat...” she stopped, staring into nothing.

“Can I see him?” she asked after a moment of contemplation.

Banner and Cap exchanged a glance.

“I’m not sure it would be wise to…” Cap said, which only fueled Amy’s determination.

“I have to see him! I have to see the man who… Oh God! He… slept in my bed! And he’s seen me naked! Jesus!” she exclaimed, burying her face in her hands.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” the Captain tried.

Amy was getting desperate.

“I’ll even do the blood test if I can see him,” she added through her fingers.

“Uhm… we’ll see what we can do,” the Captain replied, clearly uncomfortable, hurrying from the room.

Banner was watching the Captain leave when Amy cleared her throat. She pushed up the sleeve of her overall.

“How about that blood sample?” she asked.

If he really was an alien, she’d rather be sure about being normal.

After twenty minutes of uncomfortable small talk with Banner, him taking a blood sample and doing some tests, the door opened, and the Captain was back. He motioned for Amy to follow him. They walked through countless white corridors and Amy got the distinct feeling that they were underground since there were no windows and only artificial light.

“You’ll only see him through a one-way mirror. That should be sufficient,” he said, and she was immediately pissed off by his patronizing tone.

Nevertheless, she followed him into the room he brought her to, ignoring the grumpy stare of the one-eyed black man whom she pushed to the side in front of the mirror. She was done being nice and polite.

There, in the other room sat Loki. He was shackled at his feet and hands and wore a kind of muzzle while Thor talked to him. She couldn’t hear them, but she saw Loki rolling his eyes. He lounged on the chair, leaning back with an elegance she knew only too well.

She felt a lump in her throat. It was really him. That poise, the way he moved… and his eyes. She’d have known her cat anywhere, even if he was in the form of a six feet alien god.

“I need to leave,” she said chokingly, barely holding back the tears.

Sitting on her sofa, Amy was staring into nothing. She was back at home, her front door was repaired, including a brand-new alarm system Tony Stark had paid for. Her blood levels were normal apart from a slightly too low kidney level which only meant she was a bit dehydrated after her flu. And her cat was gone.

Upon coming back, Amy had broken into tears when she saw the scratching post in the corner of the living room. She’d grabbed it and hurled it downstairs, not caring if it broke into a million pieces. She’d emptied the litter box as well as the water bowl and thrown everything down into the cellar, not giving a shit about the mess.

She was alone. Her cat was gone. Her cat that always behaved so unlike a cat. Her cat that had actually never been a cat.

She curled up on the sofa, trying to understand what had happened today. Her alien cat roommate had healed her flu. The Avengers had come to get him. She’d yelled at Captain America, at one point even tried to bite him. She’d been to the Avengers compound. Her cat was an alien and Thor’s adopted brother and somehow responsible for the destruction of some part of New York.

She fell asleep on the couch. It was a fitful, not very relaxing sleep.

Her mood didn’t improve over the next weeks. Amy was always grumpy. She missed Lucky but kept reminding herself that it had all been a lie, that her cat had never been a cat at all. She was confused, sad, lonely and depressed and she didn’t know what to do or how to get better.

She got an email from Banner, telling her that Loki had been taken back to Asgard and that she was safe. She replied that he had never threatened her and that he even saved her from an assault. Banner wanted to hear more about that, and she agreed on meeting him at the compound, just to be confronted by not only him but also Thor, the Captain, the Widow and the intimidating black man with the one eye whom she’d shoved to the side when watching Loki. She learned that he was more or less the boss of the Avengers and felt like she should be in awe, really should be, but she wasn’t.

Amy was feeling empty. She told them about the fateful night when Loki had chased Terry from her home. Thor smiled broadly, Banner continuously cleaned his glasses and had his forehead in wrinkles. Widow and one-eye looked at her as if she’d lost it and the Captain seemed not sure if he could believe her or not. She became angry again at that point and offered to use a lie detector if they didn’t believe her.

She agreed to another health check with Banner that came out normal. However, she asked him for something to calm her down and make her sleep through at night, since she hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep since Lucky had been taken from her.

Loki.

Whoever.

The next weeks didn’t get any better. Amy had trouble sleeping and was feeling miserable and alone. She contemplated moving somewhere else, as New York felt off to her. She’d looked at museums and the art scene in other parts of the country. L.A. was an option, as were Chicago and Seattle. D.C., of course, or she could leave the country altogether. She knew a few art dealers and collectors in Canada and had an acquaintance in Melbourne, as well as in London. She knew people in other European countries as well, but there would be a language barrier. Not for the first time, she cursed herself for not paying better attention during Italian class in school.

One Saturday morning, almost exactly a year after the attack on New York, Amy was working on her application for a part time job at a museum in D.C. when her doorbell rang. Sighing, she saved the document and went to open the door.

Her heart missed a beat when she saw who was standing there.

Loki was wearing a bespoke black suit, his long hair elegantly pulled back into a low ponytail. His shirt was grey, no tie, black leather shoes polished to perfection. He smiled at her.

“Hello Amy. It is good to see you, may I come…”

She slammed the door in his face.

“…in?” she heard from outside.

Her breathing was out of control and she was about to faint. Her heart was hammering in her chest. There was a knock on the door.

“Amy? Please, let me in, I would like to speak with you. Amy. Amy?” the smooth voice of the alien god sounded through the door.

“Go away!” Amy managed.

She’d sunken to the floor next to the front door.

“Amy, let us talk. I need to talk to you. Please. I am sorry for what happened. I… please, let me explain,” he said.

Amy shook her head, but then remembered that he couldn’t see her.

“No. I don’t want to talk to you. Leave my property or I’ll call the authorities,” she replied.

There was a shortcut to the Avengers implemented in her alarm system, but she hadn’t paid attention when the guy who’d installed it had talked to her. She probably should have. After all, it couldn’t hurt to have them on speed dial.

“Amy, please consider talking to me. If… when you are ready to do that, please contact Tony Stark, he will send me a message,” the beautiful voice from the other side of the door said.

Shit. The Avengers were in on that.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. If she was silent, Loki would probably leave.

She was right. When she dared to look outside again, he’d left. However, there was something in her letterbox. She scoffed when she saw Tony Stark’s business card with another “I am sorry” scribbled in an elegant handwriting on it.

Amy lay down on the sofa, one arm covering her eyes. She had to leave New York. He wouldn’t know where to find her and she could start a new life.

She hated the thought of leaving the city she’d spent most of her grown up life at, but this was how things were.

Getting up, she was determined to finish that letter of application.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy has another unexpected visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday, everyone! We're back with another chapter.
> 
> Enjoy! And let me know what you think :)

Two weeks later, Loki returned, with the same result. Amy didn’t want to talk to him. About what? The way he had taken advantage of her? Why would the Avengers let him off the hook anyways? Why wasn’t he incarcerated somewhere? She didn’t know how to explain those things.

Her applications didn’t get her anywhere, though she was an expert in her field. The bigger museums had their own and didn’t employ many freelance workers. She knew the art scene and changing location was more difficult than you would think. She hated it, really. She’d built up a reputation in New York, had customers who knew and valued her abilities and now she didn’t feel at home anymore in her own city!

On a Sunday afternoon in June, Amy had another unexpected visitor.

Her doorbell rang just as she was about to make a pot of tea as it was a bit chilly despite being the beginning of summer. She’d planned on sitting down and read as she’d gotten a book about several restauration techniques, she’d always been interested in.

She sighed and hoped it wasn’t Loki again. His last try to reach out to her had left her in tears and in an even worse mood than before. For days. She didn’t want to go through that again.

She opened the door and found a tall, middle aged blonde woman smiling gently at her. Amy had never seen her in her life, though her smile reminded her of the benevolent expression many nobles wore in 18th century paintings.

She’d soon find out that her impression wasn’t _that_ wrong.

“Hello? How can I help you?” she asked, looking her visitor over.

She was wearing a bright blue skirt suit, clearly bespoke, that complimented her eye color. There was a golden brooch on her lapel and her simple black leather pumps looked immaculate. She did not carry a bag. She _did_ ooze wealth, though.

“Good afternoon. I would like for you to hear me out. Here is my card,” she said, producing a business card out of… nowhere? And holding it out for Amy to take.

Confused, she looked from the woman in front of her to the outstretched, manicured hand holding the card, which was printed on sturdy paper, gold letters on crème colored background, a golden line framing the text. Taking it, she quickly glanced at it. Amy wrinkled her brow. She turned the card around, read the back, then turned it to the front again.

“Excuse me, but this says… this says, “Queen Frigga of Asgard” and the back says “Allmother”. Is this… is this a joke? I… look, this was very funny, but I have to get going,” she said, trying to make a retreat and closing the door in the woman’s face.

Only the door wouldn’t be closed. There was a pumps-clad foot blocking it.

“Would you mind? I want to…” she trailed off, shoving the door against the foot again.

The woman didn’t even flinch.

“I would very much appreciate it if you let me in,” she said instead.

Calmly, though her words had the air of a command.

“I don’t know you and I don’t think I want to have you in my home,” Amy said directly, feeling a bit guilty about being so impolite.

She opened the door again to glare at the woman. Who was still smiling.

“You do not believe that I am who I state to be,” the woman stated calmly.

“Well… the Queen of Asgard… that would be Thor’s mother, right? And what would you want…” Amy trailed off.

Of course. Loki.

The smile on the woman’s face broadened.

“Ah, I see you’ve come to understand. And just in case you still doubt my identity, let me demonstrate something,” the woman said.

And suddenly, she wasn’t wearing a lady’s suit anymore, but a beautiful, golden dress, her hair in a complicated updo instead of a simple bun.

“My Midgardian attire is but an illusion. I am Frigga, Queen of Asgard and the Nine Realms, Allmother, Goddess of Life, Matrimony and Motherhood. I am Odin’s wife and mother of Thor and Loki. And I have come here to speak with you,” the blonde said in a calm, but nevertheless imperial tone of voice.

Amy sighed and opened the door. You didn’t turn away a Goddess if she came knocking at your door.

“All right. Please, enter. I… I haven’t tidied up, though, so… well. Would you like something to drink? I could make us tea or coffee. Or hot chocolate,” Amy offered, showing Frigga through to her living room.

“I would like some tea, please,” her visitor replied.

Amy nodded and got busy in the kitchen.

When had her life taken this strange turn that she hosted gods in her living room and had regular medical appointments with an occasionally mutating scientists, who did not have a degree in medicine?

Amy returned to the living room, finding Frigga smiling while obviously checking out her surroundings. When she placed a cup of tea on the couch table, the Allmother turned to her, accepting the tea with a nod.

“You must be wondering why I am here,” her visitor began, and Amy nodded.

“I have a suspicion, but please…,” Amy gestured for her to go on.

“First of all, I have to emphasize that Loki does not know of this visit. He did not send me. I came of my own volition. I am not here as the Queen of Asgard, but as a mother. I mean to thank you for keeping him safe all these months,” the Aesir Queen said.

Amy stared at her, dumbfounded.

“I… uhm… I didn’t know it was him, I… it wasn’t really… voluntary,” she tried, but the Allmother held up a hand to silence her stammering.

“I am well aware that you did not know it was him and that this… situation was not ideal. You were unknowingly forced into this and that, I want to apologize for. Nevertheless, you cared for my son when he needed someone to show him a little compassion. The Norns know, mistakes have been made on Asgard, with grave consequences for Midgard,” the Queen went on, sighing.

Amy had no idea what she was talking about. It must have shown on her face.

“Let me explain, though I will have to summarize: more than two years ago, Loki found out that he was adopted. We had not told him so and it came as a shock to him. He did not take it well. At the time, Thor was… indisposed, as was Odin, so the power over Asgard fell to Loki, at least for a while. It was not easy for him and through a… misunderstanding, he was convinced Thor was after him to kill him. The situation escalated badly, they fought, and Loki tried to kill himself by letting himself fall into the void beneath the rainbow bridge on Asgard.”

“However, a creature so vile and evil that he only dared to linger in the shadows at the edge of the universe found him. The creature saved his life, but tortured and manipulated Loki into believing that he had to bring Midgard and the Nine Realms down in exchange for power and revenge. This ended in the event you know as the Battle of New York.”

“However, Loki lost the battle and failed in his mission to secure a certain object for said vile creature. Now, there is no proof of this, but as a mother and his confidant, I am fairly certain that he lost the battle on purpose. The creature had threatened him should he fail, though, so Loki did what he thought best: he went into hiding.”

“And that was how he came upon you. He told me about you, a great deal. How you fed him and cared for him and how you let him enter your home and protected him and showed him affection. And this – and I am still speaking as a mother here – was exactly what he needed. Of course, you did not know who he was, but you were good-hearted, and he came to like you. He cared for you, enough to shift back into his Aesir form to heal you when you fell ill, and he worried for your wellbeing.”

“For this was how our Watcher, Heimdall, spotted him. He saw how Loki hovered around your sickbed and healed you. Needless to say, our faithful guardian alerted the Allfather and myself and steps were taken to have him brought back to Asgard and to ensure your safety. I cannot stress enough that Loki insists he never meant or did you any harm, though,” the Queen of Asgard concluded.

Amy took a slow sip of her now lukewarm tea.

It was a lot to process. Realms and gods and creatures, war, torture, cruelty. Her head was swimming, and she felt a light headache coming.

“He… Lu… _Loki_ protected me from a man who molested me. He chased him off. And apparently, he cured me from the flu. I… please, tell him thank you for that. But I’m still… angry. He… parts of the city were destroyed, people lost their lives or got severely injured. And I… I had a stranger in my home the whole time and didn’t know about it. He even… he even slept in my bed! Uhm… he was a good cat, but… I don’t know if he is a good person. Sorry,” she added, not wanting to offend the goddess currently lounging in her living room.

“No need to apologize. I understand how difficult this must be for you. Nevertheless, I would appreciate it if you could hear what he has to say. Loki wants to apologize to you, and believe me, that is a rare occurrence.”

Amy shifted in her seat. She did not know what to say. She still didn’t want to talk to Loki but turning down the Allmother didn’t seem like a good idea either. Another thought struck her then.

“What… what happened to the creature? The one behind it all?” she asked, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

Frigga sat up even straighter than before, if that was possible.

“He has been defeated and died in the final battle between his followers and the Aesir forces and their allies. At first, Loki did not want to tell us what had happened to him, but I managed to persuade him and as soon as Odin knew of the threat to the realms, he planned and led a counterattack,” the Queen of Asgard replied.

Amy had a feeling that she was trying to stay as vague as possible.

“Then he’s no longer a threat? We’re safe? Loki is safe?” she asked.

Frigga nodded.

“Yes. There is no longer a threat. Listen, before coming here and living with you, Loki did not hold Midgardians in particularly high esteem. His views have changed, thanks to you. He speaks a high praise about you. The time staying here with you has done him good. Again, I would ask you to hear what my son has to say to you.”

Amy tried to wrap her head around everything she’d learned that afternoon. It was difficult and she was not successful.

“I… I’ll think about it,” she replied insecurely.

The Allmother got up.

“It is time to take my leave. Again, thank you for showing Loki kindness when he needed it. I hope you find it in you to speak with him. It was a pleasure to meet you,” the Queen of Asgard said, getting up.

Amy wasn’t too sure about royal protocols, but she scrambled to get up as well. Frigga was remarkable quick and was out of the door before Amy had a chance of opening it for her.

“Nice to meet you too,” she called after her and the Allmother tilted her head to acknowledge her words.

Amy watched as Loki’s mother got into a limousine, the door held for her by a man that seemed vaguely familiar. They drove off, but she kept staring after them for a while longer.

When she finally returned inside, her head was throbbing. She lied down on the sofa and closed her eyes, trying to understand what just happened and what she’d just learned.

It was somehow soothing to know that Loki hadn’t been the driving force behind all the bad things that had happened. Though he had never harmed her, this knowledge calmed her. And he had given up his disguise for her. He’d even endangered his own safety for her, as the creature could have found him too when he had taken his own form, not just the Asgardian Watcher.

Did that mean he really valued her company, as Frigga had said? And how desperate must he have been when he tried to kill himself? To be found by a monster just to be tortured… it was a lot to think through.

After turning things over in her head for a while, Amy fell asleep, dreaming of creatures in the dark and Queens driven around town by nobody else but Amy herself. When she hit another car while desperately trying to side park in a narrow street in Brooklyn where one of her few friends lived, she woke up with a start, taking a few deep breaths to calm down.

She wasn’t sure about moving away anymore, but she wasn’t determined to stay either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At work, Amy has a few unexpected meetings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is a wrap! Thank you to everyone who read this, everyone who left Kudos and everyone who took the time to comment! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! 
> 
> Please, let me know what you think!

Amy mulled Frigga’s words over and over. She was wondering how, hypothetically speaking, she would be able to contact Loki if she meant to talk to him.

Not that she’d decided on doing that.

She still had Frigga’s business card, but there was no phone number, no email address and no social media information on it, just her name and titles.

Two weeks after the visit of the Allmother, Amy got a phone call from someone at Stark Industries. It turned out to be more Tony Stark and less Stark Industries related as he had some oil paintings, he wanted her to have a look at.

Amy was surprised to say the least. She was specialized in 18th century art and she hadn’t pegged Stark as a classical art person. She kept asking questions and soon found out that the paintings were modern, from the 70s and 90s as well as a fairly new one that he said had suffered in the attack. She offered to get a colleague, Simon, to have a look at them who was a specialist for modern paintings, but they insisted on having _her_ come in to check it out. The person she talked to said something of others not being available, which she knew to be false since she’d talked on the phone to Simon the previous day, but eventually, she gave in.

After all, Stark was offering her a ridiculous amount of money that she would be crazy to turn down.

The following Tuesday, she was on her way to former Stark Tower, now Avengers HQ.

The building had been at the center of the Battle of New York, but by now, nothing reminded there reminded an onlooker of the attack.

She went over to the reception desk and was promptly led to a waiting area where she would be picked up. She had barely sat down when a slightly grumpy and oddly familiar looking man approached her. Amy inwardly cursed her inability to remember faces. She knew she’d seen him before, but where and when… Probably when she’d been there after they caught Loki.

The man didn’t introduce himself, just asked her to follow him and they made their way towards the elevators.

Amy was surprised to see that they were going up in one that only had two floor buttons, one saying Ground Floor and one saying Penthouse. Being in her profession, it wasn’t the first time she was in a private elevator, some collectors filthy rich and utterly paranoid, but somehow, she hadn’t expected this today.

Her companion didn’t say a word while they made their ascent. Finally, the _ding_ signaled their arrival on the designated floor. The door opened and Amy was in awe of the panoramic view of the city. She’d been a guest in several skyscrapers, but she was always stunned seeing New York all laid out there.

The man motioned for her to follow him and she hurried to stay close to him. A blonde woman smiled at them and greeted her.

“Ah, you must be Miss Parker-Bryce! Nice to meet you! I’m Pepper Potts, Mister Stark’s assistant. He’s going to say hi as well, but I’ll just show you the paintings quickly. I know we should have done this earlier, but there was a lot to be done. This is actually the last bit of renovation and restauration we have to do and then we’ll be on the same page as before the attack,” she said, showing her the way down a corridor.

There were three paintings as she’d been told before. One of them had a suspicious reddish-brown sprinkle on it, one sported two small holes and a crack in the canvas and the other one had a piece of concrete sticking in the middle of it, causing a three inch hole and had been partly sliced open. Amy winced when she saw it. Her professional eye knew when something was damaged beyond repair.

“Those two, I can safe. This one, though… I’m afraid this is beyond saving,” she said after having a good look at all three pieces.

“That’s no problem, I’ve never like it in the first place,” came a male voice from behind them.

Both women turned around and were face by Tony Stark.

“Amy, hi, good to see you again. I’m Tony, by the way. As you probably know. How’s your front door doing?” he asked while greeting Miss Potts with a kiss.

_Assistant._

Amy huffed.

“Hi… Tony. My front door: Sturdy and as yet unbroken, thank you very much. Thanks for getting that done so quickly, by the way. As I said, these two, I can…” she trailed off, having spotted someone peering through the doorway.

There, cautiously keeping his distance in an oddly familiar way, stood Loki.

He was wearing black slacks and an olive-green button-down shirt, the top two buttons open. No tie. His black leather shoes were polished.

Amy didn’t know what to say or how to react.

Slowly, he came closer, his steps careful as if not to scare her away.

“Hello Amy. It is a pleasure to see you well,” he said, his smooth beautiful voice low.

He stopped three feet from her.

Amy’s heart raced. A crazy mix of emotions swirled through her guts. She didn’t know how to react, what to do or what to say. A part of her wanted to run. Another part wanted to shout at him and slap his face. A confusing part wanted to hug him.

She hadn’t decided on what to do when he started to speak again.

“If you do not have any plans for lunch yet, I would like to invite you and hope to be allowed to tell you my part of… our story,” he said, managing to look almost shy.

Almost.

“I… uhm…,” she wasn’t sure what to do, but then, she just gave in.

“Alright. Let’s do that. Lunch,” she said with a sigh.

Loki smiled, a small smile that lit up his sparkling green eyes.

“Very well. Thank you! And pardon me for interrupting this,” he said, gesturing at the two other people present as well as the paintings.

Amy had completely forgotten about her surroundings. Tony clapped his hands.

“You two have a lunch date. Perfect. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Or don’t do anything I would do, you crazy kids. Anyhow… so how long for these two, then?” he asked, pointing at the two paintings.

Amy reluctantly turned away from Loki, who gently nodded his head and retreated.

She talked business with Tony and Miss Potts and when they had agreed on a timeframe and a price for the two paintings, she was free to go. She wondered how Loki would know when she was ready to leave, but then she remembered Stark’s watchful AI.

She was right. As soon as the doors of the elevator that took her to the ground floor opened, she spotted Loki who seemed to have waited for her. He approached and together, they walked through the lobby.

“There is a very good burger joint not far away, if you are up for this kind of food,” he offered, and she agreed. She didn’t know if she’d even manage to eat anything, but she had to try.

Soon enough, they were seated in a cozy corner of said burger joint. It felt surreal to Amy, sitting there with Loki, someone who knew so much about her, who had _lived_ with her while she knew close to nothing about him. Except that he liked chicken and salmon. And cuddling.

_Oh God!_

Loki looked at her as if he was waiting for her to speak, but when she didn’t, he started to talk.

“Amy, first of all, I have to apologize to you. I… used you, in a way, to stay safe. I know that my mother has spoken with you, though she only told me _after_ her visit. I know what she said to you and it is all true, of course. I… went through a lot and when I turned up on your doorstep as a cat, I did not expect as much… _help_ and… affection as I got from you. In the beginning, I had planned on moving on, go somewhere else to hide, though I had not figured out where and how. Then, you were so genuinely nice to me and I thought… why not stay, for a while.”

“And then, over time, the thought of leaving hurt more and more. I know I betrayed your trust in a way, I know that I… learned so much about you but you do not know me. For now, I am to stay here, on Midgard, _Earth_ , and am to help Tony and his bunch of misfits to keep this ridiculously difficult realm safe.”

He took a swig from his glass of water then, while Amy eyed him curiously. Where was this going?

“And while I am here, I would very much appreciate a friend, Amy. I know you have all the right to turn me down, leave and never wish to see me again, but I hope this is not the case. I hope we could, maybe, meet up from time to time to sit and talk. I would be honored if you agreed to this,” he said, almost pleadingly, though not quite.

Amy mulled it over. She wasn’t entirely convinced that he meant friend as _friend_. If she was being perfectly honest with herself, she found him incredibly attractive. What he saw in her apart from a soft-hearted woman who liked cats, she did not know.

Then again… what bad could come of it? She _was_ curious about him, after all. And how often did an alien prince want to befriend you? Yes, an alien prince who had tried to take over the planet, but still… he had been an awfully well-behaved cat.

“Alright. Let’s meet up and talk from time to time. Let’s start with you telling me how you like the city. And I have to ask: which one do you prefer: chicken or salmon?” she said, leaning forward with a grin.

Loki’s melodious laughter sounded through the restaurant.

This would definitely be an interesting experience!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?


End file.
